Memories
by secretfanficlover
Summary: Tom Riddle meets a Ravenclaw that teaches him something he never noticed before, and also he finds a friend.


**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and ** **Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

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Word Count: 1700

Title: Memories

Note: AU- Tom OCC because he is a child that finds someone he can relate to- and it isn't a Pureblood, it is a Muggleborn, those he used to scorn. So this is what would have happened (I want to believe) if Tom and Myrtle got together.

Warnings: Bullying

Beta: Verity Grahams

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Golden Snitch

[Name] Crissie

[School] Uagadou

[House] Ogyinae

Ollivanders: 10–11 inch: Write about a Slytherin character.

Care of Magical Creatures:

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Hogwarts

Yearly:

Prompt 641 [Quote] "One measure of friendship consists not in the number of things friends can discuss, but in the number of things they need no longer mention." – Clifton Fadiman

Word 24 [Word] Glimpse

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_"Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind. Memories, sweetened through the ages just like wine." — Elvis Presley_

She was a curious girl, her eyes were round behind her spectacles, the colour was dull and grey, but they shone with an excitement I had never seen before. Myrtle Warren was one of the most uncommon Muggle-borns I had ever had the pleasure of knowing. Something about her attracted me, and it wasn't her looks. Our first meeting was one I would always remember.

I saw a large group of boys picking on her, and for some reason something inside me wanted to protect the poor Ravenclaw. I decided it was time to stand up for someone other than myself. Those boys were stupid, and they were one of the main reasons I wanted to get enough power to be able to do whatever I wanted.

"Hey, leave her alone," I said, I didn't need to raise my voice, they heard me just fine.

They looked at me, assessing whether or not I was even a threat to them. I refused to be a victim. Not again.

"I know some _really_ bad curses," I lied.

They didn't know if it was true or not, I was the first half-blood in Slytherin in years. Somehow my relation to Salazar Slytherin himself gave me enough power, more than most Purebloods. They scattered, convinced I would curse them. I chuckled to myself.

"Thank you," Myrtle said, her voice a mere whisper.

I gave her a roguish smile and said, "Power is everything."

Then she said something that I wasn't aware would have a tremendous impact on my life.

"Or, at least the appearance of it," she said, giving me a knowing look behind those glasses.

It was clear she knew what I had done, but since I helped her, I didn't think she would be turning on me any time soon. She gave me a quick bow, before scampering off with her books like a windswept owl.

* * *

I didn't speak to her again, not for a while, other than the occasional classes we shared. I kept to myself, mostly. We shared glances in the corridors, and sometimes it felt like sparks were shooting between the two of us that nobody else could see. I went into the Owlery one day to sit and be alone. Who would I see when I got there, Myrtle with her white owl, Snowflake.

"Hi there," she greeted me, aware we were alone.

I wasn't sure why she was speaking to me, but I figured I better be polite and reply.

"Hello," I said stiffly.

I saw Myrtle sitting with the owl on her arm, and a book lying open in front of her.

"How are you, Tom?" she asked,

"I didn't think you knew my name," I said, confused.

"Of course I do, you stood up for me," she replied, smiling curiously.

I coughed, uncomfortable in the situation, I was never on the receiving end of a look like that, and it blew me away with the beauty I found in a simple warm smile.

"Well, Uhm, yeah," I stuttered. "It was nothing."

She stroked the feathers on her owl, thoughtfully, and was quiet for a while. I watched her hands move almost hypnotically. I was startled when she spoke again, and her silence had filled the whole owlery.

"I've wanted to speak to you again, you know," she said thoughtfully.

"Why is that?" I asked suspiciously.

"You understand," she said dramatically. I didn't take her seriously and rolled my eyes at her. "It's true, though, and nobody ever realised how it feels. But I think you know how it is to be teased. Even if everyone here is scared because you are this big bad Slytherin; all I see is a person that understands how I was hurting."

I acted like the words didn't affect me, but I'm sure my eyes gave me away.

"Well, I'll never hurt you, Myrtle," I found myself admitting.

She smiled at me, and her owl came to fly over to me, cooing softly. Most of the owls were out flying around, delivering messages, so I took a live black rat from my pocket, making Snowflake's eyes focus on me. I tossed the rat I to the air, watching the owl swoop in and catch it with her sharp talons. She flew into the rafters with her treat, leaving the Ravenclaw and me to our discussion.

"Did you know that your bloodline is related to Salazar Slytherin himself?" she asked curiously.

I wonder how she knew, and I didn't go around advertising my heritage. I nodded, wordlessly, eager to hear how she had found out my bloodline when it had taken me ages to find the right books.

"I read a lot," she commented by way of explanation.

I raised my eyebrows at her blunt response.

"Okay okay I went and looked you up, it isn't all that hard to trace back magical bloodlines, they are very connected. The whole blood purity thing just screams inbreeding," Myrtle continued.

It was clear she wasn't interested in hearing that Pureblood wizards were more powerful than Muggle-borns.

"I mean, look at Olive Hornby, she teases me about wearing glasses, but she is so dim she can hardly cast a Lumos. She's Pureblood, you know," she said. Her voice stopped long enough for me to respond.

"I am aware," I replied.

"Exactly, I have no magical bloodline, yet my Potions work is some of the best in my class," she continued.

Her explanation made sense, somehow. It was something I would never have considered had I never spoken to her. Slowly she managed to make me see, not all Muggles are unworthy, and not all Purebloods are. I often wonder what would have happened if I never saw the light—if she never showed it to me.

"I see," I replied, and she peered at me over her glasses, her eyes wide.

"You disagree?" she asked, tempting me to disagree with her, but somehow I couldn't.

"What your saying is, good and bad people, not Witches or Muggles," I said, then stopped.

"Exactly!" she said, punching the air in excitement. She made me laugh, and it was hard to keep the bitterness out of it.

"You were bullied by Muggles, huh?" she managed to deduce – one couldn't disagree.

She was a smart one. I nodded.

"You can talk to me, you know. I can keep a secret," she said, her eyes lighting up at the thought of more information.

"Maybe some other time," I said with reluctance.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to go that deep into it just yet.

Later at night, I was lying in the Slytherin boys dormitory, staring at the ceiling, a knife – one of my treasures, twirling in my hand.

"Power isn't everything," I said softly, my voice not disrupting the sleeping bunkmates around me. "It's just the illusion of power." I slipped the knife into my trunk, falling asleep almost instantly.

* * *

Once I trusted Myrtle implicitly, we became partners in crime. We searched the school for hidden passages to jump out and frighten students, laughing like maniacs. It became about trickery instead of mockery.

"I've declared war on the moon!" Myrtle said, running around with an upside-down fruit bowl on her head.

"Don't be ridiculous," I snapped.

I had a hard day, and a headache from the paper I was writing, but her face instantly puffed up, and I knew… I did the one thing I said that I would never do— I hurt my friend. The waterworks started, and I quickly backtracked. That was a path I knew well by now.

"Myrtle, come on, I didn't mean it," I said softly, but she ran off anyway.

With a sigh, I resigned myself to an incomplete assignment; I needed her help anyway. So I rolled up the parchment, packed my quill and ink, and went after her.

I found her crying in the bathroom again, and calmly spoke to her until I heard the sniffing stop.

"Why are you in the girls' bathroom?" she said, peering around the door finally.

"I needed to check you were okay," I said. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry."

She looked at me, then smiled, and her tears cleared up.

"Does that mean we can go on an adventure?" she asked.

"Can I finish my essay quickly?" I asked, knowing the knowledgeable part of her would prevail. She nodded, and we walked to the library together.

* * *

We found a statue of a witch in one quiet corridor, and Myrtle decided she wanted to see if she could find a secret passageway. When she said a spell and the witches back opened up, we gasped in surprise.

"What do you think is on the other side?" she asked curiously, her eyes alight with wonder.

This incident was one of the times I remembered fondly for the rest of my life.

"I don't know," I admitted.

"Let's check it out," she grinned, leading the way into the cave after casting Lumos.

"That idea may just be crazy enough... to get us all killed!" I said but followed her anyway.

I needed to make sure she was all right. I stayed behind her; the darkness surrounding us felt like it was pushing down on me. When we reached a trap door, we discovered we were in Hogsmeade. Myrtle let out a stifled cry, not wanting to draw attention to herself.

We spent the entire day together, eating chocolates and sweets and exploring shops we weren't allowed to go to. We didn't notice how quickly the sun went down.

"Myrtle, we need to get back!" I said once I realised the time.

"Don't make me run! I'm full of chocolate!" she complained.

I grabbed her by the hand, pulling her along to get us back into the tunnel. We didn't want to get caught out after curfew. We ran and ran, and let out a sigh when we reached our respective houses.

I was thankful to have a friend like her in my life, and I would never let anyone get between us.


End file.
